


Not a Catalyst, but a Diversion

by p1013



Series: Kinkuary 2021 [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: (and not in a sexy way), Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, HP Kinkuary 2021, Hit-Wizard Draco Malfoy, Hit-Wizard Harry Potter, Hit-Wizards, Jealousy, M/M, Murder, POV Harry Potter, Rough Sex, Strangulation, Violence, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:00:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29232678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/p1013/pseuds/p1013
Summary: "You've dragged me into some stupid things before, Potter, but this takes the cake." Malfoy casts a cursory concealment charm around the both of them, and Harry shivers at the touch of his partner's magic. They've been working as Hit Wizards together for the last three years, but he's still not used to the way that Malfoy's magic feels like burning ice in his bones.He really needs to stop enjoying it as much as he does.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: Kinkuary 2021 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2140512
Comments: 20
Kudos: 253
Collections: HP Kinkuary 2021





	Not a Catalyst, but a Diversion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [slytherco](https://archiveofourown.org/users/slytherco/gifts).



> Day Five - Possessiveness/Jealousy

"This is idiotic." Malfoy, his back still pressed against the wall, wand held at the ready, peeks around the corner. "This is the single dumbest thing I've ever done before in my entire life."

"It's fine," Harry hisses back before waiting for Malfoy to signal. He does so with a quick jerk of his head, and then Harry's around the corner. The hallway is empty—which he knew it would be; he trusts Malfoy enough to not send Harry running into trouble—and he strides down it, waiting for Malfoy to fall in behind him.

"You've dragged me into some stupid things before, Potter, but this takes the cake." Malfoy casts a cursory concealment charm around the both of them, and Harry shivers at the touch of his partner's magic. They've been working as Hit Wizards together for the last three years, but he's still not used to the way that Malfoy's magic feels like burning ice in his bones.

He really needs to stop enjoying it as much as he does.

"We were supposed to be doing recon," Malfoy continues before casting a surveillance spell on the door to the penthouse suite. "This isn't even our target."

"But he is someone who can hear you," Harry says, hoping his raised eyebrows and tone of voice will get Malfoy to shut up.

It doesn't.

"We're going to get caught, and then we're going to get killed." Malfoy holds up a finger. "Unless they torture us first. It's very likely they'll torture us first."

"Christ." Harry casts his own surveillance charm, then gestures for Malfoy to shush. He glares back, but finally persists with his diatribe. "Watch my back."

"Fine."

Harry rolls his eyes before he closes them. The spell snaps into effect, and he looks around the interior of the hotel suite. The front room is decorated with a modern leather sofa and chairs. They look as comfortable as the concrete side tables or the steel table lamps that adorn the rest of the room. Everything is all hard angles and dull shine. It makes Harry miss the soft comfort of his flat.

Moving onto the kitchen—a further monument to modernism—and then the two adjoining bedrooms, Harry's surprised to find the suite empty.

"No one's inside," he says as he blinks his eyes open. The spell hangs on, and for a moment, it looks like Malfoy's standing in the middle of the California king bed, but after Harry blinks again, he's just glaring at Harry from the hallway.

"And I'm assuming you want _me_ to go in."

"You are the infiltration expert, Malfoy."

Malfoy frowns, but points his wand at the door anyway. "Expert." He scoffs. "It's just a bloody _Alohamora_."

But Malfoy does something a little different with his wand, a slight flicking twist of the wrist that triggers the electronic lock to turn from red to green. Harry's been watching it for years, and he's yet to reproduce the effect himself.

They slip into the suite, and the door locks behind them.

Even though the room is empty, they don't speak. There's always the chance that their target has listening spells (or the Muggle equivalent) set up in the room, and while they can remove themselves from film without too much trouble—overexposing film or dispelling recording charms is incredibly easy—getting rid of audio recordings is much harder. Hermione had tried to explain it to Harry once, but other than something about waves and particle physics, he wasn't able to follow. Safe to say, it's better to just keep your mouth shut.

Staying silent comes easier to Harry than it does to Malfoy. Harry's able to wander through the room quietly, noting details to himself while keeping half of his attention on the room around him. Malfoy, meanwhile, is mouthing words to himself. He's not making any noise, he's too professional for that, but his lips are moving, and if Harry pays attention, he can make out what Malfoy's saying to himself.

_No spells, no surveillance. This idiot's completely open. It's like he doesn't even care, and we know he knows there's a hit out on him, his bodyguard confirmed it. So why is he completely unprotected here, where he's his most vulnerable?_

"Mr Barker," a voice drawls from the direction of the master bedroom. Harry freezes, but Malfoy's dead center of the room, and there's nowhere for him to hide. After casting a maximized Disillusionment Charm on himself, Harry reads a curse on Malfoy's lips before his usual, casual charm falls into place like the armour it is.

"Mr Hendricks," he says, his posh accent thick and smooth. If he's feeling anything like surprise, it doesn't show. "Did I interrupt?"

"Only an afternoon nap," Hendricks replies. "Though I do wonder how you got in."

Malfoy takes a plastic keycard from his pocket and holds it up between two elegant fingers. "Robert gave me a key."

"Good man." Hendricks walks out of the bedroom and towards Malfoy. He's wearing a robe, and Harry can tell there's nothing beneath it. "But now that you're here, whatever shall we do?"

Malfoy's smile is slow and smooth, like a guiding hand. It demands, though it doesn't have to. Whoever it's aimed at wants to submit.

Including Harry.

He shifts subtly, uncomfortable and irritated. There's no time for Malfoy's slow seduction games. They need to get out of here.

"I have a few ideas," Malfoy finally answers. His eyes coast up and down Hendricks' body, and the man is only happy to undo the tie at his waist and let the robe fall open. Malfoy's eyebrows rise, and he looks up at Hendricks from under his lashes. "Well, that's a pleasant surprise."

Hendricks laughs and walks carefully towards Malfoy. "Won't your boyfriend be upset?"

"Who?" Malfoy asks as he reaches for the loose tie on Hendricks' robe. He pulls it from the loops holding it to the robe, then lets it run between his fingers.

"That dark haired man. I saw you two at the bar the other night."

"Ah, him." Malfoy throws the tie around Hendricks neck, then draws him in. "What he doesn't know won't hurt him."

"Are you sure?" Hendricks' eyes are entirely on Malfoy's mouth, his words low and tinted with desire. "He seemed rather possessive of you at the time."

Malfoy's mouth is a breath away from Hendricks' when he speaks. "He's nothing to worry about. And it's not like he's ever going to find out." Another glance from beneath pale lashes. "As long as you don't leave any marks."

Then Hendricks' mouth is on Malfoy's, and he's got his hands tangled in blond hair. Harry, still Disillusioned, doesn't realize he's walking until he is, and then he's got the tie between his hands and wrapped around Hendricks' neck. The robe is expensive, and the tie is well crafted. The terry cloth is soft and unyielding as it bites hard enough against the skin of Hendricks' throat to cut off the air to his lungs and the blood to his brain. The man's hands tear at the fabric, but they can't get any leverage between the perfectly sewn edge and his skin. Eyes whirling, the bright irises lost in a sea of white, his mouth opens and closes as he stares at Harry.

"This will leave a mark," Harry growls, his hands tightening around the tie. "So sorry."

It's not like Muggle movies. It takes a long time to strangle someone, even with the help of a ligature. Eventually, Hendricks falls unconscious, his limp legs unable to hold up his weight any more, and he slumps to the ground. Though Harry could stop there—Hendricks isn't their target, after all—he doesn't. He waits until the last involuntary paroxysms of life shudder their way through the man's body, until the chest stops heaving for air, until Harry's hands are aching and purpled where the tie cuts off his circulation.

Malfoy sighs.

"Fine mess you've made of things now."

Harry drops the tie and hisses in a breath as the blood rushes back into his fingers. "I've made?" He stands and forces Malfoy to take a step back. "I wasn't the one who got caught by the damned target."

"And it would've been fine if you had any control over yourself." Malfoy gives Harry a quick, cutting look. "You're a fucking Neanderthal."

Another step back. "He put his hands on you."

"As I was trying to seduce him, that was a _good thing_."

Malfoy's back hits the wall, and Harry's palms slam down on either side of Malfoy's face. "He put his _mouth_ on you."

Malfoy's tongue darts out to lick at his lips, and Harry growls. "Potter," Malfoy says, voice shaking. "He was harmless."

"No." Harry leans in until his mouth is nearly touching Malfoy's. "No one gets to touch what's mine."

The kiss is brutal, but it fits. They're both brutal, and this is just an extension of that. It's full of desire and violence. Malfoy's grip in Harry's hair is sharp enough to sting, and Harry licks blood from the corner of Malfoy's mouth. He's got Malfoy's legs around his waist, and he's thrusting against Malfoy's cock too hard. When Malfoy pulls back to catch his breath, he curses, writhing beneath the sudden onslaught of Harry's untempered hunter.

"You're mine," he bites into Malfoy's shoulder before carrying him to the second bedroom. Malfoy bounces on the mattress when Harry throws him there, but he doesn't do anything to try and escape. Instead, he yanks at his shirt and his trousers, stripping as quickly as Harry does.

They're both gloriously naked, and it's miles of skin pressed against skin. There's no notice paid to the body cooling in the other room or the possibility of listening devices or video cameras or even someone else walking into the bloody suite and catching them. It's just wet lips and Harry's hastily cast _Lubrico_ , and then his fingers, slick and seeking, against Draco's hole.

The man keens when Harry thrusts first one, then two fingers into his body. It's too hard, too fast, but Harry can't stop. He scissors his fingers in Draco's body, forces him open with a singular focus. It's not enough prep, not enough lube, but Harry forces his cock into Draco's body anyway.

"Oh fuck." Draco's nails bite into his back, but he's pulling Harry closer, not pushing him away. "Oh, fuck, that's so goddamned good."

"Take it." Harry bottoms out, pulls back. Draco's body clenches around him, as if it doesn't want Harry to leave, and he plunges back in. His hips smack against Draco's, and they both groan. "Take it like you were made for it."

Draco throws his head back, wraps his legs around Harry's waist, and locks his ankles at the small of Harry's back. "Yes." He's writhing against Harry, working himself on Harry's cock as Harry does his best to keep up. "I was made for you, Potter."

"Only me."

"Only you." A groan, a gasp. "Always you."

It sends Harry's heart stuttering in his chest, his breath cut off as thoroughly as if Draco had wrapped his hands around Harry's throat and squeezed. "Draco. Oh, Draco."

"Yes. Give it to me, Harry. Let me feel you. I want to feel you."

They've been partners for three years, and Harry trusts Draco more than he trusts almost anyone else in the world. He knows he can trust Draco in this, to control everything when Harry's lost any sense of control. He thrusts and thrusts, startled at the touch of Draco's knuckles against Harry's stomach. He looks down and watches as Draco pulls raggedly at his cock, his eyes shut, head thrown back, throat flushed. The world whites out around Harry. There's a ringing in his ears, and he hears his name fall from Draco's lips as he starts coming undone beneath him. Draco's body clenches, and it drags Harry's orgasm from him, kicking and screaming.

Harry falls to the mattress, uncertain when he'd picked Draco up. Mind muddled, he still has enough courtesy to not crush Draco beneath him, though he doesn't have enough energy to keep his head up. Instead, he rests it in the crook of Draco's neck and fights to catch his breath.

"Absolutely idiotic," Draco says as he runs his fingers through Harry's sweat-dampened hair. "Terrible idea."

"I love you, too," Harry grouses before sitting up with a groan. "Though I guess what I don't know won't hurt me."

"Stop your whining." Draco _Accios_ his wand and cleans them up with that same slight flicking twist of his wrist that he used when opening the door. "If you'd done a better job of surveilling the room, we wouldn't have been in this mess in the first place."

Harry stretches his back and something pops in it. "You have _got_ to stop using seduction as your go-to method for getting out of a scrape. I'm getting too old for this shit."

"Well," Draco says before darting in to give Harry a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth, "if you'd stop being so damned jealous, we wouldn't have anything to worry about, would we?"

"You'd think marrying you would've knocked some of the sass out of you." Harry swats Draco's arse hard enough to leave a red handprint behind. Glaring, the other man pulls on his trousers and flips Harry two fingers. "What're we going to tell the home office?"

"That you cleaned up what Barnett couldn't. You'll get the bonus, they'll give us another case, and no one will be the wiser." Draco grins. "Maybe we'll finally take that honeymoon."

"Right," Harry says as they walk back into the main room of the suite to start the cleanup, "like you'd ever want to stop doing this long enough for a vacation."

Draco hums quietly as Harry starts casting the funerary charms and spells they'll need to get the corpse transported to the home office without detection. "Not if that's the response I get every time."

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know. Hope you like it!
> 
> Gifted to slytherco because she gets me (and this) and has no judgement 😂😘


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